


The Head and the Heart

by I_Cant_Write



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: A little angst?, Deceit makes a little appearance, Fluff, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Patton is anxious, They kinda try to bake, Virgil gives advice, all fun and games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 15:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13954668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Cant_Write/pseuds/I_Cant_Write
Summary: He was Thomas’ heart. He was supposed to feel things, and express them. It was his job.So why was it suddenly so hard?





	The Head and the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I love these dorks and I love the idea that Patton feels so many things but doesn't know how to express them
> 
> This is largely unedited so sorry
> 
> Just a little happy fic about them getting together
> 
> Please comment what you liked/what you would change because I do read them and it helps me improve my writing

“Patton,” came a low growl from his doorway.

Patton leaps off his bed and shrieks before realizing who it is, “Oh my goodness! Don’t scare me like that! I thought you were…” he shakes his head, swallowing thickly, “The…” he whispers, “Aragog, or something.”

Virgil squints, “Why are you whispering? Aragog isn’t even real…”

Patton scoots closer, lowering his voice even more, “He could be anywhere…”

After a short expression of puzzlement, Virgil shakes his head, and perches himself on the arm on a nearby chair, “So, really Pat. What’s the big deal? I’m guessing it’s not about the…” he gestures, “The…Aragog.”

“What do you mean, Virge? I’m having a great day! I’m positively fab—”

“No, you’re not. I’m the embodiment of a bad day, remember?”

Patton scoffs, offended, “Virgil, no you’re n—“

“Patton.”

Patton shuts up.

“You’re trying to have a good day,” Virgil whispers, looking up at him, “But I’m anxiety, remember? And I’m working overtime in this room right here, and not anywhere else. Which tells me that this isn’t Thomas that’s anxious.”

Patton shakes his head, sitting gently on the end of his bed, “What do I do, Virgil?”

Virgil sobers, leaving his chair perch and stepping closer. His voice is soft, and kind, “…what do you mean, Patton?”

“I mean!” Patton throws his face in his hands, “I mean, how can I be Thomas’ heart if I can’t even express my feelings?”

Virgil sits quietly beside him. Rather than ask the question Patton thought he would ask, Virgil whispers, “What do you mean, you “can’t express them”?” 

“I mean…” Patton says quietly, “I’ve never been good at…poetry. Or writing. Or…or…expressing myself at all. Usually I just cry, but I can’t cry, because it would be weird for this kind of thing and he values intelligent expression which doesn’t involve any crying anyway but I just don’t think I’m really as smart as he is and I don’t know what I want to do because the odds of him feeling the same are just very slim because there’s no way that someone as cool and smart as that guy would ever like a flubbery, blubbery jokester like me.”

“Breathe, Patton,” Virgil breathes with him, “You said that very fast,” he remarks, but there’s no coyness in his voice, “So, this…”hypothetical” person. Why do you think he wouldn’t like you?”

“I just…” Patton gets very quiet, and twiddles his thumbs so he doesn’t have to look at Virgil, “He values intelligence, wit, and science and hates feelings or emotionality, or song, or…” he gets even softer, “Anything that I am, really.”

“Look,” Virgil turns toward him, “I’m not him, but I do know some things.”

Patton looks up at him, paying attention.

Virgil shrugs, “Like, in psychology, there’s this dude named Freud that came up with these “defense mechanisms” that I use almost daily.”

“You already know more things than I do,” Patton whispers.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Virgil eyes him suspiciously, “Anyway, so one of Freud’s defense mechanisms is called “Reaction Formation”. Do you know what that is?”

Patton shakes his head.

“It means that you act like you hate something to pretend like you don’t like something.”

Patton bites his tongue, “That’s…cool, I guess.”

“…you’re not getting it, are you?”

Patton sighs.

“Sorry, not helping. But Patton, don’t you think that this…”hypothetical person” might just be using that mechanism? Saying that they hate feelings, or jokes, or songs, to hide the fact that they like them?”

Patton looks up.

“See, you do get it. Patton,” Virgil bumps his shoulder lightly with his own shoulder, “Buddy. You’re not the only one of us that feels. Log—I mean, the hy—“

“Oh, just say it,” Patton smiles sheepishly.

Virgil nods, “Look at the way that Logan talks about Sherlock. He’s obviously got a crush on the dude, right?”

Patton frowns.

“…but he’s fictional. But my point is, Logan feels a lot about a lot of things. Sherlock, Crofters, Doctor Who,” Virgil shrugs, “Who said that one of those things couldn’t be you?”

Patton sniffs, and wipes a tear from his eye, “Well, I know you don’t like to be helpful, kiddo, but thank you.”

“It keeps me from working overtime,” is all Virgil says before he poofs out of the room.

“…I’m proud of you anyway,” Patton whispers to the walls.  
__________________________________________________________________________

“Logan! The favorite character!” Patton greets Logan’s arrival to the kitchen with his same-old spotless grin.

“Thank you Patton, I have just come for some Crofters….what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, well?”

Patton had been waiting for Logan to come get Crofters so he could see him.

“I…was baking something! Going to! I mean!”

“Yes, he definitely was,” Deceit struts across the room in that same pompous manner, “Please, while you’re baking, burn down the mind-palace, Patton.”

“I’ll be careful, you know me!” Patton grins again.

“Yes…” Deceit disappears again with a large box of Scooby Snacks. Typical.

“You’re…” Logan shakes the confusion out of his head, “…going to bake?”

“Yep!” Patton grabs a cookie sheet to act like he knows what he’s doing.

“…please allow me to assist you before you burn everything down.”

“Aw, Logan,” Patton gives him a sly smile, “You don’t trust me to bake for you?”

Logan disappears and reappears in an apron that looks like the TARDIS, “There are many things I trust you with, Patton Sanders, and baking is not one of them.”

“That looks so cute on you!” He exclaims accidentally, “You’re going to help me?”

Did Logan’s face just go…a little red?

“Yes, I am. Purely for the safety of Thomas’ mind.”

“Mmhmm, sure. It’s definitely not an excuse to eat cookie dough.”

Logan raises an eyebrow, “That can give you salmonella, Patton.”

“Sam and Bella?”

“No, salmonella.”

“Sand in Bellville?”

Logan sighs, “You’re getting further away. It’s a disease that gives you diarrhea and vomiting caused by consuming uncooked eggs.”

“That sounds egg-straordinarily awful!”

“Patton, no.”

“But yolks on you, I’m egg-cited to eat cookie dough anyway!”

“Please, stop.”

“And you look EGGcellent in that apron!”

“This (egg)scruciating.”

Patton gasps.

“…what? No. NO.”

“Did you just—“

“NO.”

Patton squeals, and Logan sighs.

“This is a form of torture.”

“Oh, come on,” Patton grins at him, “You know you love them!”

“No comment,” Logan says as he starts prepping the ingredients, but his tone isn’t harsh.

“So, what are we baking, baking buddy?” Patton bounds up beside him, staring at all the ingredients.

“Chocolate chip?”

“No thanks, I’ll eat them without baking them.”

“…cookies, Patton. I was asking if you wanted to make chocolate chip cookies.”

“Oh,” Patton giggles, his hand already in the bag of chips, “Silly me.”

Patton swaps quickly into his apron, which reads “Hot Stuff Coming Through.”

“Well?” Patton grins, “Do you like it?”

“It’s…” Logan pauses.

Patton swallows and waits for the harsh response.

“…clever. For a pun, anyway.”

Patton felt like his heart was going to burst.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t really come in here to bake.”

“I know,” Logan nods, cracking an egg, “Deceit confirmed that.”

Patton frowned, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Logan shrugs, “I figured if it WAS any of my business, then forcing you to tell me was not the best option. And, if it was NOT my business, then I did not need to know.”

“Logan.”

“Yes, Patton?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Logan glances up, brows furrowed.

“Why I was in here?” Patton shifts his balance back and forth between feet, “I…I need to tell you something.”

Logan pauses from cracking eggs, “…yes?”

“I…well, here’s the thing. Don’t overreact here, and it’s totally cool and fine if you don’t agree with me on this but please just be nice because I really have to tell you but I’m kind of scared and—“

“Patton,” Logan whispers.

“I…” Patton twists his hands, “Why is it so hard to say?”

Logan waits patiently, egg in hand, giving him his full attention.

“I…mighthaveacrushonyou. Okay, I…I really have a crush on you. Like, “like like” you. A lot.” He lets out a long breath.

A moment of stunned silence, and then Logan’s egg crashes to the ground.

“Well, that’s not eggcellent.”

“You already made that joke.”

“I know, but I’m terrified.”

Logan pauses, and then shakes his head, “You guys can come out now.”

Patton is flabbergasted.

Logan looks over his shoulder, “Roman, come on. I’m calling you out. This isn’t funny.”

Patton can’t even believe what he’s seeing, “…What?”

Logan chuckles, but there’s no humor in it, “This is all a prank, right? Because I told him that I liked you? Now he just feels like he can make fun of me?”

“Logan, wh—“

“But I just r-really had hoped that you wouldn’t have j-joined in,” Logan’s voice wavers, “I trusted you Patton, I liked you, and now i-it’s just…” he sniffs.

Patton’s brows furrow in concern, and he starts to say something, but Logan starts looking around and moving things. After a minute of doing so, he dries off his hands roughly, clenching his jaw and crossing his arms, “You’re probably recording, right? To see me upset? The emotionless one?” he says without looking at him.

“Logan.”

“How did you get him to do it, Roman?” Logan calls into the Commons, and then looks back at Patton, “Or were you Deceit all along, and poor Patton doesn’t even know you’re doing this? How could y-you do this t-to me, I trusted you with that, I trusted…”

“Logan.”

“Be quiet.”

“Logan,” Patton whispers, “Do you really think so little of yourself that you think my confession is a…prank?”

Logan’s eyes and nose are red, and dewy, “No, no, you’re not going to rope me back into this, don’t.”

“Logan,” Patton whispers, and takes his hand, “It’s just me. Standing here. Telling you I like you. No pranks, no games, no jokes.”

“….really?”

“Really really.”

“Oh, well…” Logan checks around one last time, and then what he did dawns on him, “Ohhhh…oh my goodness.”

“Logan, it’s okay.”

Logan shifts, his face bright red, trying to avoid looking at Patton, “…that’s terribly embarrassing. You tried to confess, and I just…” Logan, uncharacteristically unable to think of a word, just gestures like a bomb exploding.

Patton wraps his arms around him, “It’s okay, Logan,” he smiles, and squeezes even tighter, “It’s more than okay. I just want you to feel like you’re loved.”

Logan pulls back, his face red, “…am I? You would know best…I’m assuming.”

Patton smiles shyly, “Well, I called you “the favorite character” when you came in, didn’t I?”

“…yes?”

“…but I didn’t say whose favorite character you were.”

Logan’s nose is still red, and it’s cute. He’s just staring at Patton like he has the answers to the universe.

And then…

Logan kisses him, and it’s the best thing that’s touched his lips since the pizza he ate last week.

…okay, maybe better than that.

Logan tries to pull away, but Patton murmurs, “Mm-mm,” grabs his tie and pulls him back in. Startled, Logan stumbles back and ends up with an elbow in the bowl of baking ingredients.

“Oh, shoot,” Patton grabs a towel, but his shirt sleeve is soaked with egg. Logan doesn’t even pay attention to it, and cups Patton’s jaw, pulling him back in again.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Virgil mutters, “Can I get a snack or what?”

Logan is so startled that he flings his arm back and shoves the whole bowl off the counter.

Logan looks at Patton, and then at the bowl, and then at Virgil, the bowl again, and then Patton.

Logan and Patton burst into giggles. Patton had never seen Logan laugh before, and it made his heart go thump thump thump in his throat. He looked back at Virgil, who was also smiling a little.

“This is almost as big of a disaster as I am,” Virgil remarked dryly, “…glad it worked out for you Patton.”

Patton beams, and squeals, leaping toward Virgil.

“Hey, hey!” Virgil dodges him, “You’re gonna get flour on my black clothes. No.”

Patton pouts, and Virgil sighs, beckoning.

Patton squeezes him tightly, “Thank you.”

“…I’m just glad you’re happy, Patton.”

Logan is pretty much done cleaning up now, somehow, but Patton takes one look at his shirt and giggles.

“Well, you were a tough egg to crack, Logan…”

“STOP.”

“…but I think I floured you with that kiss.”

Logan pauses, and then it dawns on him, “Oh goodness, did you mean ‘floored’?”

Patton stands there, grinning, and Logan sighs, his eyes sly.

“I’ll let you get away with that one, but…you’re walking on eggshells here, Patton.”

Patton squeals so loud that Virgil holds his ears.

Logan’s face is pink, and he’s smiling, “No, but you are, quite literally, walking on eggshells.”

“…we should clean this up.”

“Quite.”


End file.
